


Warm Me Up, I'm Cold Inside

by Comments (IAmTheRainbowSheep)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I Blame Tumblr, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I tried though, I'm Sorry, Non-Sexual Age Play, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual Kink, Papa Lestrade takes care of the idiot, Protective Lestrade, Punishment, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good, Sleepy Cuddles, Spanking, papa lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 03:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12225228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmTheRainbowSheep/pseuds/Comments
Summary: Sherlock stood sheepishly in front of Lestrade, who had his arms crossed and was staring at him with a very heavy scowl on his face. Sherlock had been feeling his adult mindset slipping into little boy mindset all day, and he was quickly growing nervous at the thought of slipping now of all times.So! Long story short, Sherlock almost kills himself (again) and Greg gets tired of it and decides to punish Sherlock (who is mentally regressing but Greg doesn't know that yet). Then Sherlock finally slips into little space and Greg takes care of him once he realizes what's going on.





	Warm Me Up, I'm Cold Inside

Sherlock stood sheepishly in front of Lestrade, who had his arms crossed and was staring at him with a very heavy scowl on his face. Sherlock had been feeling his adult mindset slipping into little boy mindset all day, and he was quickly growing nervous at the thought of slipping _now_ of all times. “Lestrade... I can explain,” he forced himself to say, trying to fight his mind. Lestrade gestured with his hand for Sherlock to continue, and trying to find the words, Sherlock began his explanation. “I was trying to make a sedative that would put me into a very heavy sleep to figure out the specifics of the case, but I guess that I made a mistake and... and I guess it was less than successful and it exploded, though the gases did in fact make me fall unconscious.”

Greg grit his teeth, trying to remain calm in the face of what had happened- he'd thought the little bastard _died_ , after all. “I thought we talked about there being no more potentially explosive chemical experiments after the last time?”

“It's not like I _knew_ it would happen! I had no idea it would-”

“Sherlock, enough!” Greg snapped, tired of Sherlock's arguments and excuses. Sherlock flinched back from the raised voice, feeling himself being oddly... sheepish and meek, not liking the change at all and not liking Greg's anger at all.

Sherlock shifted from foot to foot, trying to be calm when he suddenly felt really upset and didn't quite understand it; he should be able to handle being yelled at by now. He was an adult for Christ's sake. “I didn't mean to,” he mumbled, staring at the ground as he shifted from foot to foot.

“You almost died, Sherlock. I don't think you're understanding the gravity of that!” Greg said, trying to force some sense into the idiot in front of him.

Sherlock suddenly felt a strong sense of anger rushing into him faster than he could stop to think, just wanting it all to be over, for Greg to leave and go away. People always left when he used his sharp tongue and biting deductions. Greg would leave too, if Sherlock pushed enough. “So what if I died? It's none of your business if I die!”

“None of my-?” Greg began, unable to believe his ears. “Do you hear yourself? You know what, I'm done with this.”

_Then just go like everyone else_ , Sherlock thought petulantly. He gaped at Greg in shock as the older man pulled him forward by the bicep, manhandling him as he walked along and dragged Sherlock with him. “What are you doing?” Sherlock asked, trying to pull away in vain. Greg was much stronger than he let on. “Greg?” he asked, voice sounding much shakier and younger than he cared to admit. Greg merely ignored him, much to his chagrin.

Greg finally let go as he took a deep breath, calming himself down as he took a seat on Sherlock's bed, before he motioned for the younger man to come over. Sherlock looked lost, confusion in his baby blue eyes as he stood there in a large white t-shirt and sweats, the robe doing nothing but make him look even smaller. “Come here.”

“Why?” Sherlock responded immediately, needing a clear understanding of what was going on, needing someone to explain everything he couldn't understand. He could feel the anxiety pooling in his stomach, and he knew this could go very wrong while he was in this mindspace.

Greg looked him over, letting out a sigh. “Because you nearly killed yourself and need a good spanking from the only person equipped to give it to you to remind you to bloody well listen for once and not get yourself killed. Now, I'm not going to ask again, Sherlock. Come here.” He steadily met Sherlock's surprised and anxious eyes, reaching out his hand and waiting for the man to step forward and submit. As expected, Sherlock stared at him for a full minute before he averted his eyes and took a step forward, moving close enough that Greg could pull him closer and ease him over his knee.

He made sure that Sherlock was comfortable before he tried to move the robe out of the way. “Actually, can this come off?” he asked, tugging at the robe. Sherlock nodded, and Greg helped him out of the robe, then waited for a second before he placed his hand on the upturned arse before him to tell Sherlock it was beginning.

Greg raised his hand and let it fall with a sharp smack, not giving much room for it register before he landed another smack. Sherlock let out a gasp- _Greg was definitely stronger than he let on_. Sherlock closed his eyes and tried to distract himself by going through all the water-soluble and fat-soluble poisons he could remember in his position. He was not going to cry, he told himself repeatedly. He refused to cry.

He wished he wore jeans today, or anything else except for the flimsy cloth that currently did nothing to help protect him from Greg's callused hand.

Greg delivered fast unyielding smacks for a couple minutes until Sherlock was breathing fast before he began to talk. “What you did was unnecessarily dangerous. We've already talked about the fact that you need to learn the value of your life before, and this is the last resort I had to turn to because talking didn't do a damned thing to make you learn it fast enough. I don't enjoy doing this, but I enjoy the thought of losing you far less than taking you over my knee. If we have to do this again, rest assured that it will be far more severe than this. Do you understand?”

“-nghh! Yes, yes, I understand!” Sherlock groaned, hardly having the focus or ability to answer in coherent words.

Greg considered. “Good,” he decided, before he fell silent and continued the punishment.

After about another twenty smacks, Sherlock spoke up. “Greg! Greg, please. I'm sorry,” Sherlock gasped out desperately, squirming in place as the sting grew to a steady burn. His eyes stung, yet he still refused to let them fall, desperately clinging to his adult mind but slipping faster and faster. “Please, I'm sorry.”

Greg listened, but with a heavy heart, continued. “I have to make sure that you learn your lesson, kid. I can't bear to lose you. Can you imagine the pain that the people who love you would feel? I cannot even think about the idea that one day, I could lose you. I don't want to think about a world that you're not a part of, so don't you _dare_ tell me it's none of my business if you die!” He landed sharper and faster smacks, trying to drive his point home to the squirming- borderline thrashing- boy over his lap.

“I'm- sorry! I'll be good.”

“I don't want a repeat of this, do you understand? Do you know how many people would grieve? Me, Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson, your mum and dad. If I have to punish you every time you do something stupid like this just to keep you alive, then so be it! I'll do this every day if that meant having you realize how important you are to us. Because I _care_ about you, Sherlock. I fucking _love_ you.”

He finally finished his tirade, finishing it up with a dozen harsh smacks before he eased up and stopped, letting Sherlock lay draped across his lap as he rubbed circles on his back for a few minutes. His hand bloody well stung, and he couldn't even imagine how Sherlock must feel, being on the receiving end of the spanking and all. “Sherlock? You can stand up now.”

Sherlock bonelessly slid to his knees beside Greg, only his hair being visible from where Greg was sitting. Sherlock remained silent and still beside Greg, and after a few minutes, Greg began to wonder what was wrong. Had he used too much force? “Sherlock? Are you alright?” he asked, and Sherlock remained silent, simply kneeling by Greg's feet and staring at the ground. “Can you look at me, please?” There was no response, and after waiting, he hesitantly reached out and tilted up Sherlock's chin so he could look at him.

Sherlock's face was tear-streaked, and Greg's stomach fell. He hadn't expected... well, he hadn't expected much of a reaction beyond a scowl, storming off, or maybe some pouting. He didn't exactly expect for his words to actually be heard, or for Sherlock to actually be affected by the punishment in any way. It wasn't exactly in Sherlock's character to be affected by things.

“Hey,” Greg softly cooed, running his hands through Sherlock's curls for a moment in a weird attempt to placate him as the guilt hit him and hit him hard. “It's alright, right? Punishment over, no harm done? Everything's okay now? Did I hit you too hard?” The words seemed to have the opposite effect he was going for, and Sherlock turned his face away again, his shoulders quaking as he sobbed with his face buried in his bed. It was a damn sad sight to see. “Sherlock? What's wrong? Hey, come on, don't be like that.”

“'m sorry,” Sherlock breathed between his sobbing, voice tight and hoarse. “'m sorry,” he repeated in an almost hysterical state, and buried his face in his hands. Not knowing what else to do, Greg reached for him and pulled the pliant man up so that he could be seated next to Greg and not have to remain kneeling on the floor. Sherlock leaned on him, and Greg wrapped an around him to try and calm him down as he worked himself up.

“Hey, come on, now, it's fine. I told you, it's okay now. I forgive you. It's okay now, all done and over with,” Greg assured as Sherlock wrapped himself around him, clinging onto him as if he was holding onto a lifesaver.

Sherlock gripped his shirt tightly as he cried into Greg's shoulder. “Please don't go, Da'y, I'll be good, I promise.”

Greg froze, before he quickly continued rubbing his hand over Sherlock's back in soothing circles. _Ah_ , he thought, _that explains a lot_. Thankfully, he knew what to do now, knew what was happening. He'd taken care of boys before in the past- he had sons, and he'd cared for a few lads who needed to change into a little boy from time to time to deal with the world better.

“It's alright, little one, Daddy's right here, no need to be upset any more. Just let it out, I'm sure you need a good cry to get all that emotion out. It'll be alright.” He murmured sweet nothings into Sherlock's ear, until the crying had ceased and Sherlock remained leaning limply against him. He maneuvered them so that they were lying down, knowing that Sherlock had probably tired himself out after such a long cry, though with his record with insomnia, it was just as well. “Are you tired, love?”

Sherlock nodded, his grip loose on Daddy's shirt as he felt his eyes feel heavy.

“You can sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up,” Greg assured, still holding Sherlock close. Sherlock nodded into his shoulder, too tired from crying to fight off the exhaustion. He fell asleep wrapped in Greg's arms, feeling protected and safe in a way he couldn't describe, warm and content as he snuggled close to the older man.

They'd probably have to have a grown-up talk in the morning, but for now, Greg only held Sherlock close and let him have a much-needed post-spanking rest.

 


End file.
